Still Waking Sleep
by Rebekah D
Summary: Sleep isn’t something that comes easily for me, even though I’m exhausted on almost all levels. He seems to fair better than me though, or maybe he’s just really good at faking it." Spoilers for S1- S4 up to S.O.B.


We work late into the day and into the evening, until we finalize a plan for the next day. He's written down a list of supplies we'll need to get, so we pile into our technically stolen car and drive to the nearest supermarket. We walk into the market together, air conditioned air hitting my face like the cold slap of winter. He indicates the stack of baskets for costumers, and I take one up, sliding my arm through the double handles, we look as casual as any other couple going grocery shopping. I take the lead towards the cleaning supply aisle, he keeps a steady pace beside me, gathering up a generic bottle of bleach, he picks through a couple of boxes of powdered cleaners, looking through the ingredients, he drops two boxes in the basket, and smirks at me warmly, just another evening grocery shopping for the right chemicals to incapacitate a car full of people. After he's seemingly done with the cleaning aisle, he steers us towards the prepared food section of the store.

"Better than delivered pizza and truck stop fair, right?" he says, giving me a genuine smile, eyes crinkling at the edges and everything.

"Agreed."

We pick out a rotisserie chicken, and some fresh looking salads from the deli display case. The deli attendant smiles at us dutifully when we place our order, her hair net in place, clear plastic gloves on her hands. Recognition never crosses her face once, we're completely anonymous.

***

Sleep isn't something that comes easily for me, even though I'm exhausted on almost all levels. He seems to fair better than me though, or maybe he's just really good at faking it. I doze off an on, letting his deep breaths lull me into pseudo sleep, my mind bringing me back to full consciousness every hour or so.

We shut the lights off at 10 past 1, going over our plan several times during our meal, and after. He ate his chicken with a fork and knife continental style, his hands never leaving the top of the table, like a gentleman. I sipped my water, and tried to force down cucumber salad and cold sesame green beans and red bell peppers, poking at a chicken thigh, scolding myself in my head, knowing full well that to function with enough energy I'd need to take in protein, and not just carbohydrates. He notices my skeletal eating, but doesn't say anything, just stands close to me as we do the dishes, and kisses the back of neck as I put the left overs in the fridge.

***

The dawn is breaking, and even as high up we are in the apartment building I can hear the stirrings of the first birds to wake up. Their sounds wash past me with the cool breeze from the window. I stir, feeling the hard and soft edges and plains of his body fitted to my back, spooning me in his arms. This is something I only fleetingly let myself fantasize about, this feeling of early morning comfort and contentment. His warm breath on my neck, the security of his arms, the casual nature of his leg between mine.

He stirs from his sleep, becoming aware of his surroundings and me. His lips lightly sliding across the exposed skin my tank top provides of my neck, back and arms. Slowly I feel the grind of his hips into my backside, his morning erection being firmly pressed into my clothed flesh. I welcome it, grinding back, then savoring the harsh rasp of his morning beard on my skin, the contrast of the gathering steady thrum of heat and blood in my lower half is a charge to my senses. I turn my face to look into his eyes, he looks at me with his lids at half mast, he's on the verge of smoldering. Morning breath be damned, he leans in, his lips soft, I make mine malleable, and open my mouth to the subtle ministrations of his tongue on my bottom lip, relishing in the hot and cold sensation of his tongue meeting mine. We lazily kiss, while his hands start to explore my torso, my hips and my ass through my clothes. The heat is pooling between us and I have to feel more then just the gentle smoothing of his hands over my clothes. I turn over to face him, sliding my leg over his hips as he lies on his back, looking up at me in wonder as I peal my tank top off, then stare down at him expectantly.

He complies by sitting up and running his hands up and down my back, making me shiver, and even more so when he brings his lips to my neck then works his way down past my clavicle to my breasts. He looks up at me, clear blue eyes, asking everything and nothing all at once, he brings his hands to my breasts testing the weight of them in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples, I keep my eyes open even as the shocks of pleasure pass through me, my breathing increasing. He leans forward laving his tongue along one breast, treating the soft underside like a delicate and precious treat, while his other hand works my other breast. He methodically works, ending with a nipple in his mouth, sucking slow but gently, then adding pressure. I grind my appreciation into his lap. My mouth hanging open as the tri-sensation of his stimulation of my breasts, and my grinding into his erection bringing me a beat closer to climax.

My hands start to make quick work of his shirt, he has to disengage from both my breasts as I lift the offending garment over his head and drop it on the floor by the bed. Hugging me close, we both sigh into the sensation of skin meeting skin. He leans in and places his mouth on mine once more, tasting my tongue and teeth, the sensitive roof of my mouth, and the inside of my lower lip. He pulls away, simply running his lips over mine, his mouth slightly open, it's like he's running the softest of finger tips over my lips, eliciting the sweetest tingling, a pleasant tease.

Clothes make the wayward dive to the floor, as we make hushed moans and sighs against each other. The feel of his skin is still a novelty to me, the hardness of his erection in my hand, silky strong, hot and alive. I watch his face as I run my thumb over the head, his breath hitching, a smile of absolute mirth and pleasure on his lips, his face. I guide him to my entrance, I feel sodden and so ready, l've been half thinking about this for days. He slides slowly into me, every bump and ridge tantalizing my insides, making me clothes my eyes. He's to the hilt, and we breathe each other in.

"I love you." he says, half choking on the words.

"And I love you." I say as I start to move.

He lies back, and lets me ride, then sits up, and thrusts in tandem with me, sweat starts to gather behind my knees, sliding down my back, my neck. I see sweat forming on his face as well, his face flushed with exertion. He lies back again, and I lean back on my hands, feeling the top side of his penis and head moving against that elusive spot, as I am simultaneously able to grind my clit into his pubic bone. The sensations are almost too much, grinding and thrusting, the sweat, the sounds, the smells, I hear him chanting my name.

"Sara, Sar, love, Oh Fuck, God, Sara!"

He sits up again, thrusting up into me, still hitting that spot, one hand holding fast to my hip, I know I'll have bruises there later today, his other hand reaches between my folds he gathers our combined juices on his fingers and finds my clit, rubbing it slowly then fast in tiny concentrated circles. The feeling of him inside me hot and moving and his fingers on my clit are just enough, I stiffen and seemingly stop half way through a thrust, that agonizing half second before climax leaves me with my mouth open wide, and my eyes staring into his. He looks on me in awe, even more so when the tight contractions inside me constrict around his cock so tightly, his nostrils flair and he thrusts, elongating my climax with the sliding feel of his ridges and veins massaging my insides. I hold onto his shoulders as I come down, and watch his eyes roll back in his head as he climaxes. He's beautiful.

"Love. You." he says on a breath.

Both coming down, I leave my hands on his shoulders, rubbing his sweat into his skin. He breathes in and out, and smiles at me lazily, humming his appreciation of my ministrations to his shoulders. Then dips his head forward and leans his forehead against mine.

This is contentment, this is what I want to last forever if we make it through today and tomorrow.


End file.
